


Inner Truths - An FE3H Trans Journey

by NameForsaken



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Coming Out, FtM Transgender, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Character, MtF Transgender, binding, fetransweek2020, ftm Byleth, ftm caspar, ftm mari, genderfluid edelgard, mtf lorenz, mtf manuela, nonbinary leonie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NameForsaken/pseuds/NameForsaken
Summary: Caspar finally comes out to Edelgard.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 32
Kudos: 59
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020!





	1. Day 1: Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar finally comes out to Edelgard.

“Caspar! Open the door.”

Caspar cursed to himself as he quickly glanced around his dorm, reaching for his uniform vest. Edelgard’s knocks became more persistent as he scurried to make himself presentable. “Just give me a minute!” he shouted out to her, tripping over his sheathed sword on his way to the door. 

“What is going on in there?” Edelgard inquired sternly, her voice sharp enough to cut through wood. 

He kicked his sword to the side, ignoring the pain in his foot as he hopped across the room. Finally, he reached the door, cracking it open just enough to stick his head out and greet his House leader. “H-hey, Edelgard, what’s up?”

Her violet eyes narrowed at him impatiently, her brow twitching with frustration. “Get out here.”

“I, uh…” Caspar stuttered, glancing back at his bed. “Now’s not exactly a good time.”

Edelgard lifted a hand to the door, giving it a rough shove. “Just what are you hiding?”

Caspar stumbled backward but managed to keep his grip on the door, holding her back. He gave the princess a toothy grin, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable, but he needed just another few moments to prepare his nerves. He hadn’t expected this would be the way he’d finally tell Edelgard his secret. “Sorry, what is this about again?”

“You cut class early every single day at the same exact time,” she stated accusingly. “I’d like to know why.”

His smile tightened. Of course she’d noticed something so miniscule. “Gee, Edelgard, if I knew you were going to keep track of my bathroom breaks, I would’ve written you a schedule.”

She rested a hand on her hip, clearly not amused. “This is not a joking matter, Caspar. If there’s something going on—”

He sighed. There was absolutely no way she was going to let this go. “Alright, alright,” he interrupted, finally opening the door. He turned his back to her, folding his arms over his chest as he moved over to the bed. “Have a look.”

Edelgard entered the room, her heels clicking across the floor. “You know, this would go a lot faster if you just tell me what it is I’m looking for.”

Caspar kept his back turned, his eyes locked on the small piece of fabric that lay open on his bed. To any unsuspecting person, it was just an old rag. But to Caspar, it was a part of his identity. 

She continued around the room, letting out a huff as she came to a stop. “Caspar. Turn around.”

He did as he was told, his smile falling as he finally dropped his arms to his sides. He lowered his head, refusing to meet her gaze. “You caught me.”

“I don’t understand,” she muttered, her tone softening. “You—you’re—”

“I’m exactly who I say I am,” Caspar asserted, not letting her finish that sentence. He quickly replaced his arms over his chest, hiding the extra weight once more. “My body isn’t like the other guys’ here.”

Edelgard moved around him, finally taking a look at his bed. She picked up the piece of fabric, letting out a pensive hum. “So this is…?”

“It helps keep me flat,” he explained. He reached for the fabric, finally mustering the courage to look at her. To his surprise, her expression wasn’t one of judgment, but of concern. 

“Is that safe?” she asked.

Caspar just shrugged. “It’s safer than using bandages. Tried it a few times, didn’t end up well.” He glanced down at the cloth. “Linhardt made this for me out of an old shirt. He added some stretchy material to make it more breathable.”

She nodded. “So Linhardt knows.”

“Of course he does. We’ve known each other practically our whole lives.” Caspar sat down on his bed, smoothing the cloth over his lap. “He was the only one who even tried to understand me.”

Edelgard took a few steps toward him, eying the bed cautiously before she decided to sit. “Is that why you came to Garreg Mach?”

“Well, it’s  _ a _ reason.” He drew in a deep breath. He didn’t exactly like talking about his feelings, especially about this. But something in his gut told him he could trust Edelgard, so he swallowed his pride and dared to take that chance. “As I’m sure you already know, I have an older brother. He was always destined to be the heir of our house, and because of that, he was always given everything he wanted. I was never anything more to my parents than a troublemaker, and when I tried telling them I wanted to be treated like their son, they just saw it as another way I was acting out.”

He looked up at Edelgard, who was watching him patiently, waiting for him to continue. It was perhaps one of the first times he’d seen her with her guard down, and he found her presence strangely reassuring. 

“My father told me I’d never be a man. He said I wasn’t even good enough to be a bride, that no one would want a scrappy, uncontrollable brute for a wife.” Caspar let out a weak laugh, trying to push his father’s words out of his mind. “I decided to come to Garreg Mach to prove him wrong. Not about the bride part — he’s right, I’m never going to be anyone’s wife. But I’m going to make a name for myself, and I’ll be a better man than my lazy bastard of a brother ever will be.”

“Well,” he mumbled, lifting a hand to the back of his head, “that is if you don’t tell anyone about this.”

Edelgard closed her eyes, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. But as far as I’m concerned—” She opened her eyes again, filled with determination. “—You’re already that man. And as long as you’re a member of the Black Eagles, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure no one treats you any differently.”

Caspar blinked, slightly taken aback by his leader’s kindness. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he finally told her the truth, but he certainly wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. Perhaps he had underestimated Edelgard, but it was not a mistake he was likely to make again. “Thanks, Edelgard.”

Her smile widened as she offered him a simple nod. She then turned her gaze back to the cloth, a question still held in her eyes. “So is this why you’ve been leaving class early every day?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t exactly explain that part, did I?” He chuckled softly. “Well, as you can see, my chest is a lot larger than most guys’. Wearing something this constricting can make it difficult to breathe, so I have to take breaks. I guess I figured no one would really notice if I left five minutes early, but apparently your perception is much stronger than mine.”

Edelgard raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to be the emperor someday, Caspar. What kind of leader would I be if I didn’t even know my own comrades’ whereabouts?”

“Fair point,” he quipped, tipping his head to the side. “So… am I off the hook?”

“For now.” She stood from his bed, turning to face him one last time. “But if something does come up, whatever it may be, I do hope you’ll tell me.”

He smiled. “You’ll be the first to know.”  _ Well _ , he added mentally,  _ except for Linhardt _ . He watched as Edelgard left his room, her footsteps disappearing down the hall. When he was finally alone again, he tore off his vest, leaned back on his bed, and released a long sigh. 

_ Much better. _


	2. Day 2: Class Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonie awaits the results of her War Master exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonie is nonbinary in this piece and refers to herself with "she/her" pronouns, but she is open to any and all pronouns. You'll see Raphael referring to Leonie as "he/him" a couple times.

Leonie paced nervously outside of the classroom, wondering what was taking so long. Professor Eisner had been in there for nearly an hour, looking over Leonie’s exam. Leonie didn’t understand what was the point of even taking the exams anymore, as Garreg Mach was no longer an academy or monastery, but a base of operations and sanctuary for families who had lost their homes in the war. It shouldn’t have mattered what type of fighter Leonie wanted to be, but unfortunately, even in the five years since the war had begun, too many people in Fódlan cared more about filling gender roles than they did the front lines of battle. 

That was, up until recently. When Professor Eisner had returned to the monastery on the day of the Golden Deer reunion, Leonie was not the only one who felt a sudden shift to their side of the war. It seemed as though all of the Golden Deer, especially Claude, had been in much lighter spirits as of late, and after Leonie had made a complaint to him about not being able to train as a War Master, Claude had approached the professor and together they decided to abolish the restraints on gender-specific fighting classes. 

It had been almost three years since Leonie had stopped identifying as a woman. Or, well, since she’d stopped identifying  _ solely _ as one. It had taken many years of introspection, and, strangely, a long discussion with Lorenz, for Leonie to finally realize that gender just didn’t play an important role in her life. It didn’t matter to her whether people saw her as a woman, or a man, or something completely outside the binary. She just wanted to be Leonie, a warrior, a person who would stop at nothing to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. And so she had told her comrades just that, and they had all accepted her with open arms. 

But getting the rest of the public to embrace Leonie’s identity had proven to be a much more difficult task. To a lot of the men of the Alliance, Leonie was “too frail” for hand-to-hand combat, and was often told to remain in the back of the troops with the archers and healers. To a lot of the women, she was seen as “a disgrace” to womanhood, her reckless and “brutish” behavior said to be an act against the goddess. The only people who didn’t ridicule Leonie’s choices were her friends, the ones who had put aside their differences so long ago and had chosen to defend the Alliance at all costs. 

When Professor Eisner had announced that she would be removing class restrictions, Leonie was the very first person in line to petition for a class change. She had been training with Raphael in hand-to-hand combat and with Hilda in axes, but while Leonie was confident in her abilities, she still couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about the results. She’d spent years fighting to finally be taken seriously as a brawler, but now that she was this close to obtaining her greatest achievement, she feared one wrong move would destroy it for good. 

“Hey, Lee,” Raphael called out to her now as he slung a sack of what she presumed to be potatoes over his back. “Any word yet?”

She finally stopped her pacing, taking a deep breath as she met her friend’s amicable gaze. “Not yet, Raphael,” she told him with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t understand what’s taking so long.”

“Well, I’m not much of an expert when it comes to tests,” he said, taking a few large steps forward. “But War Master is a Master class so it’s probably harder to grade… or something like that.” 

Leonie frowned. “Or maybe I failed and the professor is trying to figure out a way to let me down gently.”

Raphael let out a hum. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You trained really hard for this!”

“Yeah, relax!” another voice shouted emphatically. Leonie spun around to see Hilda, followed by Lorenz and Lysithea, walking toward her. “Your axe skills are practically on par with mine, now, and I bet you could take down a wild boar with those muscles!”

She huffed at Hilda’s compliment, flexing her arms as if on instinct. She glanced down at her bare biceps, then sneaked a look at Hilda’s. A smirk found her lips as she realized even from a distance that the girth of her muscles had finally outgrown the pink-haired Wyvern Lord’s. 

“Hey, he’s got nothing on me!” Raphael announced, flexing with his free arm. All four of them rolled their eyes as he gave them his signature goofy grin. 

“If I have to hear one more word about muscles I’m going to Warp you all to the stables,” Lysithea groaned. “You’re all abnormally buff, congratulations.”

Hilda rested her arm on Lysithea’s head, causing the scowl on the smaller girl’s face to deepen. “Aww, is someone jealous?”

Lysithea pushed her arm away, and stomped toward Leonie. “So are you going to be a War Master, or not?”

Leonie blinked. She should’ve been more than used to Lysithea’s bluntness by now, but it still often amazed her how someone as petite as Lysithea could be so forward and dangerous, both on and off the battlefield. She was about to answer when the door behind them creaked open, and all five turned to face the professor. 

“Oh, you’re all here,” Professor Eisner spoke, glancing between her former students. She squinted her eyes. “Well,  _ almost _ all of you.”

“I have no idea what they’re doing here, Professor,” Leonie admitted. 

Lorenz scoffed. “Now, Leonie, is that any way to speak to your comrades? We wanted to be the first to congratulate you.”

“I haven’t even gotten my results yet,” she reminded him. 

Professor Eisner cleared her throat. “Right, about that.”

Leonie frowned, her heart sinking at the professor’s rather discouraging tone. “I didn’t pass, did I?”

“I didn’t say that,” Professor Eisner stated, her brows furrowing. She reached into her cape and withdrew a rolled up scroll, handing it to Leonie. “I’ll need your measurements by tomorrow morning so I can submit them to the Armorer.”

Her eyes lit up as she realized the meaning behind the professor’s words, and she opened the scroll just for confirmation. There, as clear as day, was her War Master class certification, signed by the professor herself. 

“Congratulations.”

Leonie opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to express how she was feeling at that moment. In all the twenty-five years she’d been alive, she never thought she’d see the day that someone like her would become a War Master. Even looking down at the paper, the letters scrawled right before her, she had difficulty convincing herself that she was no longer dreaming. 

It wasn’t until she felt Raphael’s strong palm against her back that she realized this was real. She stumbled at the contact, momentarily losing her balance as she turned to glance up at the large man. He was beaming down at her, his expression seeming to say “I knew you could do it.”

“Well?” Hilda inquired after another extended moment of silence. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course!” Leonie finally responded, her mind still reeling. She rolled up the scroll, stuffing it into her belt. “Thank you, Professor.”

“No need to thank me, you did this all on your own.” Professor Eisner smiled, something Leonie and the rest of her comrades still hadn’t gotten used to. Back during their school days, the professor hadn’t smiled much, if at all. But lately, since the war had started to turn around in their favor, she had been smiling much more frequently, more genuinely, and just having her around brought all of the Golden Deer relief. 

“Alright, now that that’s taken care of, can we go eat?”

“ _ Raphael, _ ” Lysithea hissed through her teeth, shooting him a look Leonie couldn’t quite decipher. 

He scratched the back of his head, giving her an apologetic smile. “Oh! We weren’t supposed to tell him.”

Hilda slapped a palm to her face and Lysithea groaned. Leonie narrowed her eyes, glancing between the foursome. “Tell me what?”

Lorenz was the only one who seemed to be keeping his cool. Rather than surrender like his comrades, he simply began to walk off toward the Dining Hall. 

“Just come with us,” Lysithea sighed, gesturing for them all to follow Lorenz. They all obliged, but Leonie had a feeling she already knew what was going on. As much as Claude liked to boast about his sneaky tactics, he and the rest of the Golden Deer failed miserably when it actually came to keeping a secret. 

Still, Leonie prepared herself to act surprised. It was the least she could do after her friends had gone through so much to show her their support. When they finally reached the Dining Hall, Lorenz held open the door, Leonie the last to pass through after the professor as she stepped into the brightly-lit room. 

“ _ Congratulations! _ ” several voices shouted in tandem as the remaining members of the Golden Deer jumped out of their seats. Claude stood in the middle of them all, a large rectangular box in his hands. 

She glanced between all of her friends, including Marianne and Ignatz, who wore smiles just as radiant as the others. “Guys, you didn’t have to do this,” she told them, lifting a hand to her heart in genuine gratitude. “What if I hadn’t passed?”

“We would’ve celebrated anyway,” Claude answered in confidence. “Even if you didn’t pass the first time, you still attempted something no one else has ever done before.”

Leonie shrugged, trying to hide an embarrassed blush as she looked off into a corner. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Claude clicked his tongue. “Fine, fine, I’ll just return this gift if it’s not that important to you.”

That caught her attention. She raised an eyebrow, turning back to the box that Claude now had extended in her direction. She reached for it, but stopped herself at the last moment. “Nothing’s going to jump out at me, right?”

“What kind of guy do you think I am?!” he gasped, feigning offense. 

Leonie chanced her luck and took the box. She carried it over to the table where Marianne and Ignatz were once again sat, opting to take a seat across from Marianne. She smiled up at the blue-haired beauty, giving her a questioning look. “Please tell me it’s not boobytrapped.”

“I assure you it’s not,” Marianne said softly, returning Leonie’s smile. 

Hilda stepped up behind her, resting her hands gently on Marianne’s shoulders. “Just open it already,” she encouraged Leonie. 

The rest of the Golden Deer gathered around Leonie, and suddenly she felt very claustrophobic. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been the center of attention, but it was certainly starting to get on her nerves. 

Without wasting another moment, she finally lifted the lid of the box, and set it aside to reveal a newly-forged pair of Dragon Claws. Her jaw dropped at the gleaming new weapons, her heart rising in her chest. “Wow, I... These are beautiful. But how did you get these?”

Finally, Lorenz stepped forward, his cool demeanor beginning to subside. He folded his arms behind his back, a small, but sincere smile forming across his lips as he nodded toward the claws. “I may have volunteered a few of our troops to scrounge for the materials.”

Leonie’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “Lorenz, you didn’t!”

“No need to worry, everyone came back safely,” he assured her. “And I wouldn’t have gone without the professor’s permission.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Somehow I have difficulty believing that.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Professor Eisner confirmed. “I thought it would be a good training exercise to have some of our soldiers hunt the Demonic Beasts that still plague the borders of the Alliance.”

“When we gathered all of the right materials, we brought them to the blacksmith and had them custom made for you,” Marianne explained. 

“I took the measurements of your steel gauntlets and Ignatz drew up the designs,” Hilda added. “We all helped, one way or another.”

Leonie glanced down at the weapons, processing all of this new information. Her friends had gone through all that trouble just for her? Just for a pair of fancy gauntlets? “But… why?”

“Because we like you, silly.” Hilda frowned. “Don’t you like them?”

“Of course I do, I just…” Leonie drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes.  _ This is real _ , she told herself, thinking about everything that had happened that day. She was a War Master, now. Or, at least she would be as soon as she had the proper armor.  _ This is what you’ve always wanted. _

She didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want any of this to end. More than anything, she wanted to believe that this was her life, now; that she didn’t have to worry about the ridicule, the strange looks, the judgment anymore. She could, finally, just be Leonie, just be the warrior she’d always wanted to be. But…

“What is it?” Professor Eisner asked, breaking her from her thoughts. 

Leonie opened her eyes, and everything was still the same. She was still surrounded by all of her friends, still had the certificate in her belt, and still had a shiny new pair of gauntlets laid out in front of her. It  _ was _ real. 

She reached into the box, finally allowing herself to pick up the claws. They slipped on perfectly, just like a glove. Slowly, she pushed herself up from her seat, and as she turned around to face her friends, she let go of her doubts. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, readying her stance. “Who wants to go first?”


	3. Day 3: Makeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari gets his first haircut since coming out as a transgender man, and he bonds with Hilda during the process.

Mari sat silently at Hilda’s vanity table, watching her through the mirror as she combed her fingers through Mari’s long, vibrant locks. To say he was nervous was an understatement, but if there was anyone he trusted to do this sort of thing, it was Hilda. 

Today was the day Mari was finally going to become a man — or, well, become one on the outside. He’d already come out to all of the Golden Deer and the rest of his close friends at Garreg Mach a week earlier, but he had yet to start presenting in the way he’d always dreamed of. He was still a bit apprehensive to do something so bold after seeing himself in a very specific way for so long, but he knew that this was what he needed in order to rid himself of any last shreds of doubt.

“So do you already have a style in mind you’d like to try out?” Hilda asked, meeting his bashful gaze through the mirror. 

He shook his head, glancing down at his hands in his lap. His fingernails dug into the hems of his lounge shorts, his pale thighs turning pink underneath the pressure. He felt a little ridiculous wearing his night clothes in the middle of the afternoon, but they were the only clothing he owned that didn’t make him feel totally uncomfortable. 

Hilda leaned around Mari to look at him once more. “Hey,” she said softly, offering him an encouraging smile. “We don’t have to do too much if you don’t want to. Just let me know if anything feels off, and we’ll work on it, okay?”

Goddess, Hilda had been such a blessing over the past several weeks. Mari had come out to her long before he came out to anyone else, back when he still wasn’t exactly sure who he would end up becoming. All he knew at the time was that he didn’t feel quite right being called Marianne, and when he’d first told Hilda, she didn’t even flinch. She’d helped him ask all of the difficult questions, and they slowly came up with the answers together until Mari was finally able to tell her with certainty who he wanted to be. 

“I…” Mari responded quietly, braving another look in the mirror. It was the first time he really let himself absorb his appearance since coming to terms with his identity. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t immediately cringe upon seeing his hair fully brushed out and draped around his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten it cut; for years, he’d just pulled it back as tightly as he could, out of his face where he wouldn’t have to see it. But now, the length didn’t actually seem so intimidating. In a way, it felt almost freeing. “I think I want to keep it long.”

“I think that’s a good choice,” Hilda agreed. She brought her hands back up to Mari’s hair, stopping about three inches below his shoulders. “How about something like this?”

Mari gave her a timid smile. "I like it. Let's try it."

Hilda took his confirmation, and got to work. She spent the next fifteen minutes snipping away at Mari's hair, all the while Mari kept his eyes closed. He focused on the sound of Hilda's voice as she hummed an upbeat tune, lovely and bright as always. Occasionally, she would ask Mari a question or comment on recent events around the monastery, keeping him engaged as she worked her magic. 

Finally, the snipping stopped, as did Hilda's humming, and Mari drew in a nervous breath at the realization that she had finished. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up at his reflection, his heart nearly skipping a beat at the person staring back. 

His hair, although still long, felt much lighter as it curled in toward the bottom just above his chest. Hilda had also trimmed and styled his bangs so that they framed his face rather than concealed it, and for the first time, Mari saw his cheekbones not as gaunt and frail, but as sharp and elegant. He moved his head from side to side, a playful smile finding his lips as the azure waves bounced back and forth before settling back into place. 

"What do you think?" Hilda inquired after a moment, her own expression amused by Mari's reaction. 

He lifted a hand to the right side of his face, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He met Hilda's gaze as a light blush rose to his cheeks, his smile ceasing to fade. "I think… I look handsome."

She chuckled softly at his response, resting her hands gently on his shoulders. "You make a fine gentleman, Sir Edmund," she teased. 

"Oh, Hilda," Mari murmured, his blush deepening. "Stop that."

"What? I'm only speaking the truth." She gave his shoulders a firm pat before dropping her hands back to her sides. "If it's something you don't like to be called, though, don't hesitate to speak up."

Mari furrowed his eyebrows. "Oh, no, that's okay… I'm just not quite used to those kinds of compliments."

Hilda grinned. "Well, you better start getting used to it. Once I'm finished with you, you'll be giving all the other guys at Garreg Mach a run for their money."

He turned around in his seat to face her. "What do you mean?"

"You don't think I'm stopping at just a haircut, do you?" Hilda moved to the other side of her room and picked up a small booklet that had been laying open on her bed. "If you really want to be serious about this makeover, we'll have to get you some new clothes. You can't just wear your loungewear all day, especially on the monastery grounds."

"But the professor said she'd be bringing me some new uniforms," Mari reminded her. "I don't really need more than that."

Hilda shook her head. "Uniforms are good for school, but what about when you go into town? And what about after graduation?"

Mari let out a pensive hum. Truthfully, he hadn't put much thought into his appearance outside of the basics. He hadn't even considered the idea of leaving the monastery, or even returning home. He had yet to tell the Margrave of his newfound identity, but he wanted to do so in person, and he supposed he wanted to look his very best, too. 

"I guess you're right," he told Hilda. "But where do I start?"

She brought the booklet back over to Mari, flashing the cover. "I borrowed this from Annette. It highlights the current trends in both men's and women's fashion right now, and I think looking through the illustrations might help give you some ideas."

Hilda set the booklet on the vanity in front of Mari. "You don't have to decide right now, though. Whenever you're ready."

Mari turned to look at the book, then back up at Hilda. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit he was still trying to break. "Will you go through it with me?" he asked her with uncertainty, although he already knew the answer. 

"Of course," she replied with ease, not a single ounce of hesitance in her voice. Her expression changed, however, as she glanced around her room. "But maybe once we clean up this mess."

He followed her gaze to the pool of blue locks that surrounded his feet. "Oh goodness…"

They both spent the next few minutes tidying up Hilda’s room and disposing of Mari’s locks. When the floor was visible again, they curled up together against the bed, the booklet spread out over their laps.

After flipping through a few pages, Mari noticed that Hilda’s eyes weren’t on the illustrations, but on him. Rather than the attention making him uncomfortable, though, for once he welcomed it. He knew he looked different, and he felt much different, too. Mari was much happier than he ever thought he could be, and he knew that this was just the beginning of his emotional journey. A small smile crossed his lips as he continued to read, knowing that before too long, he would finally, fully, be the man he was always meant to be. 


	4. Day 4: Self-Love/Comfort/Everyone Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth (FTM) tries to help Dimitri find his inner strength after losing everything.
> 
> Crimson Flower alternate timeline where Dimitri is spared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this piece does have transgender M!Byleth, his identity is not the main focal point and is only brought up briefly.

The dungeons of the Imperial Palace were of the most impressive Byleth had ever seen. After the war, he had spent much of his limited downtime in the dungeons, hoping to persuade the prisoners to offer their services to the Empire against those who slithered in the dark in exchange for their permanent freedom. Many of the prisoners had readily sworn their loyalty to Lady Edelgard and were already well on their way to becoming capable soldiers under the instruction of Byleth and Caspar, who had been appointed Minister of Military Affairs. But no matter how he persisted, there was just one prisoner he couldn’t seem to get through to. 

Now, Byleth found himself pacing by the bottom of the staircase, his heart thumping wildly inside his chest as he tried to work up the nerve to approach the stubborn prisoner. Ever since the Crest of Flames had been removed from his body upon the departure of the Immaculate One, Byleth had been experiencing a strange array of emotions, sometimes so powerful they would leave him immobile and speechless. While he was becoming better about recognizing certain emotions and learning to keep them under control, he still hadn’t quite figured out how to manage the more extreme emotions, such as his anxiety and doubt. 

_You’ve done this a dozen times before,_ he told himself as he willed his hands to stop shaking, trying to remember what it was like back before he started feeling anything at all. But each new visit, each failed attempt at reaching out left him a little more hopeless every time, and he started to wonder if maybe Edelgard was right for calling the prisoner a wasted effort.

He clenched his fists, shaking his head as he willed himself to press forward. If there was one thing he had learned from his students, it was that there was no such thing as wasted effort. Edelgard had known that better than anyone, and because she persisted against all odds, she succeeded in liberating Fódlan from Rhea’s corrupt rule, and she was working every day to dismantle the Crest system that had brought their land more harm than it ever had any good. 

Byleth rounded the corridor into the newly-refurbished dungeon, greeting the guards who stood watch over the remaining prisoners’ cells. At the very end of the row was a cell much larger and pristine than the rest, the interior built more like a room at an inn than a place to keep someone captive. He instructed the guards on watch to leave him for a while before approaching the cell, swallowing down his apprehension as he leaned in to the open window. 

As he predicted, the prisoner was still curled up in bed, his matted locks concealing his features as he stared off into an empty space. Despite the staff’s best efforts to keep the man well-fed, his body appeared to be gaunt and lifeless, his once towering, bulky frame now nothing but a wilted, hollow stalk. Byleth knocked once on the sturdy iron door, but the man did not so much as flinch. 

“Dimitri,” he called out, his voice desperate and weak. “You don’t have to keep living like this.”

His former student rolled away from him, turning to face the wall. Byleth longed to know what was going through his mind, if there was any hint of the Dimitri he once knew back at the Officers Academy left inside.

“Edelgard does not wish to punish you, and neither do I.” The prisoner remained silent, and Byleth let out a frustrated sigh. “The war is over.”

After another few moments of silence, Byleth was ready to call it a night. He slowly lowered his hand from the door, closing his eyes. 

“It will never be over…”

Byleth’s eyes shot open, peering into the cell. Dimitri still had his back turned, but his words were unmistakable. It was the first time Byleth had heard him speak in almost a month. 

“The war isn’t outside this cell,” he continued, his voice thin from lack of use. “It’s in my head… Every time I close my eyes, all I see is a burning kingdom, gone because of my ill leadership.”

“Faerghus is being rebuilt,” Byleth told him. “All of the remaining members of your troops have recovered from their wounds and are in good health. They understand that you were being manipulated by Rhea.”

“I wasn’t being manipulated. I knew what Rhea was capable of, and still I chose to defend her.” Dimitri turned his head, just barely enough for Byleth to see the hint of dull blue in his eyes. “Dedue… I led him to his death.”

Byleth swallowed, recalling the beast he’d been forced to slay. “That wasn’t Dedue. He was already gone the moment he decided to use those Crest Stones.”

Dimitri dropped his head back to his pillow. “I would have done the same thing, had I gotten close enough.” He folded his arms into his chest, his shoulders hunched in despair. “I now know Edelgard is not to blame for what happened in Duscur. She was just a child, then, and I am ashamed of holding onto that delusion for so many years.”

“As I’ve said, Edelgard does not wish to punish you,” Byleth reiterated, although he knew it would take more than just a simple statement to convince the broken man otherwise. 

“I deserve to be punished,” he growled under his breath, a cough escaping his throat. “I am a disgrace to my bloodline, to all of Fódlan.”

Byleth bowed his head, Dimitri’s words piercing his heart. He lifted a hand to his chest, wishing once more that he could block out the pain. “You are not a disgrace,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he wondered whether he was referring just to Dimitri, or if he was trying to convince himself. “You are a good man.”

Dimitri went silent again, but Byleth wasn’t ready to give up. Not when he’d already made this much progress. 

“I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m going to tell you again,” he continued. “We are not black and white beings. We make mistakes, we learn from them, and we change. But it takes time, and it takes effort, and sometimes, it takes pain.”

“What would _you_ know about pain?” Dimitri’s tone was accusatory, full of anger and hatred, but Byleth knew he was directing it himself rather than his former teacher. “You didn’t even have a heartbeat the first time we met.”

He huffed. “Alright, maybe I deserve that… But just because I was emotionally stunted back then, it didn’t mean I didn’t still feel anything.” He lowered his hand, moving his gaze to his chest where it formerly clutched. “I spent several years binding my chest and experimenting with dangerous transformation magic until I was able to afford the procedures I needed to make my body look the way it is now.”

It was no secret to Dimitri or any of the other former students that Byleth was born in a different body. He had taught them back in his early academy days about different gender identities, and how many of the mercenaries he’d met throughout his travels had undergone similar procedures in order to match their outsides to their inner selves. He had shown them some of the scars he’d received from his magic experiments to warn them not to use dangerous methods, and he’d encouraged them to come to him if they ever had any questions or felt they might need some better resources for themselves. 

“I wasn’t smart when I first began my transition,” he told Dimitri. “I have permanent damage because of the mistakes I made. But those mistakes didn’t make me any less of a person, and they didn’t stop me from becoming who I wanted to be.”

Dimitri finally turned away from the wall, fully allowing himself to meet Byleth’s empathetic gaze. “You messed around with a few bad concoctions. I gambled away my entire kingdom just to try to fulfill a false need for revenge.”

Byleth pressed his palm to the door. “So atone for that. Help us fight those who are still taking advantage of Rhea’s broken system. Live for all of the lives that have been lost.”

“It’s… not that easy, Professor…” 

“I’m not saying it will be.” Byleth searched his face for any semblance of clarity, hoping that even if Dimitri wasn’t yet ready to commit to the change, he was at least willing to give it a second thought. “But you have friends upstairs who are waiting for you. You have an estranged sister who spared you because she wants to see you on her side. You can either spend the rest of your life rotting away down here, or you can come with me and try to make things right. It’s your choice.”

Dimitri drew in a deep breath, glancing around the inside of his cell. After a moment, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his lack of muscle mass caused him to tremble, and he soon resigned to laying back down. “I think I should rest.”

Byleth nodded, offering Dimitri the smallest of smiles. He turned away from the cell, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, although he knew he still had much more work to do. He wanted to believe that his words had reached Dimitri that evening, that all of his visits had not been in vain. He wanted more than anything to see his former student get back up on his feet again, and for him to finally find his inner strength. 

But for now, at least Byleth had hope. 


	5. Day 5: Mentorship/Solidarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manuela opens up to Lorenz in hopes that Lorenz will finally open up to her.

_Soft as a gentle breeze,  
_ _How I yearn to be seen;  
_ _Uncertain that the face I wear  
_ _Reflects the best version of me._

 _Oh my heart, it grows frail  
_ _As I run from my restraints;  
_ _To be open, to be free  
_ _Of society’s stain._

 _Fight, I must,  
_ _To take my rightful place.  
_ _I cannot live with these thoughts,  
_ _I cannot afford such a mistake._

 _But oh, how I dream  
_ _To wake up outside this room,  
_ _To drink the sun’s warmth,  
_ _To finally, fully bloom._

Manuela’s dramatic voice echoed throughout the empty cathedral, her tone much softer than Lorenz was used to. But the words she recited resonated louder than even the bells from the tower, the weight they carried seeming to tug at Lorenz’s soul. 

She lowered the crumpled scroll and met Lorenz’s distraught gaze, her sharp brows furrowed in concern. “This isn’t like your other poems.”

Lorenz glanced away. “You weren’t supposed to find that.” 

The songstress let out a sympathetic hum. “Surely it can’t be easy holding all of these emotions inside.” She lowered herself to the pew where Lorenz sat, setting the poem down between them with a delicate hand. “Now, before you go spouting some nonsense about nobility, let me start by saying that I know what you’re going through.”

“That’s not—” Lorenz sighed, knowing full well that getting Manuela to back down would be next to impossible. “You’re wrong. Nobility plays more of an important role in my life than I’m sure you’ll ever be able to fully comprehend.”

Manuela crossed her legs, her expression calm as she smoothed her hands over her skirt. “I may be just a commoner to you, dear, but I do understand the pressures that come with being a notable figure of society. Every single choice you make is under constant scrutiny, and if you present yourself as anything other than what they deem acceptable, you _will_ be subject to torment.”

Lorenz swallowed, once again refusing to meet her gaze. Infuriatingly, Manuela seemed to be reading every single thought that rushed through Lorenz’s mind. How could a woman who spent more nights than not in a drunken haze possibly be so wise and perceptive?

“But nothing they can do to you will ever be worse than what you’re doing to yourself,” she continued. “So why won’t you let someone inside?”

“I don’t need this,” Lorenz decided with a huff, beginning to stand. “You don’t know the first thing about my troubles.”

“I, too, was once a lost little girl,” Manuela mused. 

Lorenz blinked, eyes narrowing at the older woman. “Are you suggesting that I’m a girl?”

“I’m not suggesting anything.” She remained seated as Lorenz took a few hesitant steps back. “But would it be such an absurd idea if it were true?”

“How could it be true? I can’t just change my body and claim to be something I’m not!”

Manuela smiled. “Why not? I did just that.” That certainly caught Lorenz’s attention. She patted the seat beside her, urging the student to join her once more. “I was born in a body similar to yours. I, too, was expected to grow up under specific standards, but the person everyone else wanted me to be was just not me.”

Lorenz’s heart was beating rather harshly, now, Manuela’s story striking a chord. Her words were all too familiar, but Lorenz wasn’t yet ready to admit that. “So how did you—?”

“Become a woman?” She turned her head up toward the large stained-glass windows that lined the walls of the cathedral, the last bits of daylight shining down upon them. “Well, it was actually simpler than one might imagine. I left home at a young age and decided to change my name. I worked as a street performer before I was recruited by the opera and I saved every coin I earned. Within my first year at the opera, I was able to afford a procedure that would give me the body I desired. As far as most people know, I have always been, and will always be, Manuela Casagranda — that is, until I find myself a husband.”

“Amazing,” Lorenz gasped with an unintentional slip of the tongue. Manuela’s hearty laugh brought an embarrassed blush to Lorenz’s cheeks. “F-forgive me.”

Her smile widened as she directed her gaze back to Lorenz’s poem, picking it back up and flattening it in her lap. “So, my dear, do you care to tell me how you ‘yearn to be seen’?”

Lorenz drew in a deep breath before finally taking those few steps back over to Manuela, eyes becoming thick with unshed tears. It had been so long since Lorenz had entertained the idea of telling someone else. “I… I want to be seen as a woman.”

There, the truth had finally come out. Lorenz had never thought it even possible to speak those words aloud, but now, Lorenz knew that with Manuela, there was nothing to be afraid of. 

Manuela lifted a hand to the student’s trembling back. “If that’s what you want, you don’t have to run away from it.”

“I…” Lorenz glanced up at Manuela, the first tear managing to escape. But even as the tears rolled down, Lorenz was able to smile, because for the first time in her life, she was finally able to be herself. “I’m not ready to tell anyone else, yet. But if it’s alright with you, Professor, I would like to continue to seek your advice.”

“It’s quite alright with me, dear,” she told her with confidence. “I’ll try my best to help you with whatever you need.”

Lorenz reached into her coat pocket for her handkerchief, raising it to dab at her eyes. She sat there beside Manuela in content silence, enjoying the company of her new mentor. Maybe someday soon she would find the courage to come out to her friends and other classmates at Garreg Mach, but for now, she would take her time slowly healing, allowing herself to discover what kind of woman she wanted to be. 

_Calm as the sun sets_  
_Behind stained-glass eyes,_  
_Two kindred souls converge_  
_As truth is brought to light._


	6. Day 6: Found Family/Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard addresses the people of the New Adrestian Empire.

Edelgard looked out across the crowded palace courtyard, cheers erupting from every direction as the Adrestian Emperor started down the long stairway, their beloved at their side. The sun had never shone brighter than it did that mid-spring morning, and Edelgard’s heart had never been more full. At long last, the war was over, and Edelgard’s dream of uniting Fódlan was finally beginning to come true. 

When they reached the bottom of the staircase they were greeted by the smiles of their friends, of the ones who had stuck by them through the toughest battles and the seemingly endless pain. Edelgard bowed before them and they each did the same, leaving countless words of gratitude unspoken, for they all knew how much the other meant. Edelgard turned to face their beloved, reaching for her hand. Their fingers intertwined, Edelgard gave a gentle squeeze, Byleth returning the gesture with a smile and a promise that she’d be right there until the very end of the speech. 

They parted, and finally Edelgard stepped into the crowds. “People of Fódlan,” they spoke proudly, holding their head high. “The time for unity has finally come upon us. The archbishop shall keep us divided no more. Today, we shall bring about a new era of peace and prosperity. Today, we shall all stand as equals.”

“The war is over, but we still have work to do.” Edelgard glanced around at the civilians, each of them watching, listening to every word. “I, alone, am unfit to lead an empire, but with the help of my new counsel — with my  _ friends _ — I believe we can rebuild this empire into a nation where every last voice is heard.”

Everyone began to applaud as Edelgard continued through the crowd, the people clearing a path for their emperor. “From this day forward, we are not governors, or nobles, or commoners. We are not our Crests or lack thereof, nor is our status determined by the wealth we possess. We are people, living in a world that is in desperate need of healing. Only can we heal it if we put our differences aside and work together.”

Edelgard stopped in the center of the crowd and turned to look back at Byleth. Upon seeing her encouraging smile, their own lips upturned in joy and admiration. “There was a time not so long ago when I was convinced that my path was one I had to walk alone. I had thought the only way to achieve my goals was to follow them on my own terms. But then I met someone who showed me how to let other people in. She, along with the rest of the Black Eagles Strike Force, is the reason we are all standing here today. And just as she helped lead our troops to victory, she will help lead this land into prosperity.”

Byleth stepped forward as Edelgard extended their hand, all eyes on the blue-haired beauty as she strode to Edelgard’s side. She nodded silently toward the crowd as they gazed upon her in curiosity, waiting to see what Edelgard would say next.

“Just as you have all welcomed me as your emperor, I hope you will welcome my partner, Byleth Eisner, as your queen.”

Behind them, the remaining members of the Black Eagles Strike Force cheered and whistled, loudly offering their blessings to the newly-engaged couple. A small smirk found Edelgard’s lips as they caught Ferdinand reaching for Hubert’s hand, happy to see that they were not the only one who had found love in an unexpected place. 

The crowds soon echoed back their acceptance and praise, and Edelgard’s heart swelled in an overwhelming mixture of emotions. Never had they thought they would receive such strong support from their people, and never had Edelgard been so proud to call this empire — this new nation — their home. 

Yes, there were still battles Edelgard and their friends had left to fight. But just as they had won the war, they would defeat those who slithered in the dark, and no one, as long as Edelgard could help it, would be treated unjustly again. 


	7. Day 7: Free Day - The Eisner Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has an important announcement for her family. 
> 
> Twinleths AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Vitus" is the name I will be using for M!Byleth in this piece so as not to be confused with his sister, Byleth. The twins are roughly around 9-10 years old.

“I think I’m a girl.”

Vitus rolled over in bed, yawning as he turned to face his twin. “Bylie, go back to sleep…”

His sibling was staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide in wonder. “But I’m serious. I don’t know what is, I just have this feeling I’m supposed to be a girl.” Byleth turned to face Vitus. “Is that weird, Vi?”

He sighed. Clearly he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight. He kicked aside his covers and sat up, squinting at Byleth through the dark. “It’s not weird… At least I don’t think it is.” He let out a thoughtful hum. “Actually, I’ve kind of always wanted a sister.”

Byleth shot up, eyes now narrowing in Vitus’s direction. “Really? And you never told me?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” He glanced over toward the door where the sound of heavy boots could be heard shuffling across the floor. “You should probably tell Dad, though.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay with it?” 

Vitus shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He turned back to Byleth, blinking tiredly. “If you want, I can tell him for you.”

“No, I’ll do it.” Byleth laid back down, and Vitus did the same, hoping his twin had decided to go back to sleep. But before he could get too comfortable, Byleth spoke up again. “What do you think girls are like?”

“Uh…” Vitus folded his arms behind his head, stumbling for an answer. There weren’t exactly young girls in their mercenary troop, and when they did go into town, most of the children were advised to keep their distance from the pair of siblings. The women among them weren’t so different from the men, either, at least not from what Vitus could tell. When they weren’t fighting or tracking down thieves, they spent their nights in the local taverns, drinking and laughing about things the kids were too young to understand. “They’re like boys, except they get boobs when they grow up.”

“Oh.” Byleth hummed curiously. “Do you think I’ll have boobs when I’m older?”

“Do you want boobs?” He looked over at his sibling just in time to see Byleth nod. “Then I’m sure you can find a way to get them.”

“Okay.”

Byleth, content with Vitus’s answer, rolled over and went silent. Within a few minutes, his twin was snoring. Vitus turned his gaze back to the ceiling, reminding himself to refer to Byleth as his sister before he, too, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, Jeralt woke the children for an early jog around the house before he prepared them breakfast. Vitus spent the entirety of the meal eyeing his sister, waiting for her to tell their father what she had told him. But to his surprise, breakfast passed without so much a mention, and Byleth threw herself into her sword training while Vitus sat back beneath the old willow tree, buried in a book. 

Jeralt huffed and puffed as his sword clashed against Byleth’s, his child managing to knock him off-balance and seize a victory. He let out a hearty laugh as he dropped his sword to the grass, lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Keep fighting like that and you’ll surpass this old man in no time.”

Byleth didn’t so much as smirk as she approached her father, lowering herself to the grass beside him. Vitus peered at them both over the top of his book, noting the way their father’s eyebrows raised as Byleth cleared her throat. 

“Something wrong, kiddo?” Jeralt asked as he propped an elbow on his knee. 

She turned to him, eyes full of intent, and stated, “I’m a girl.”

Jeralt blinked, clearly surprised, but he didn’t seem at all upset. After taking a moment to process her words, his expression softened, and he smiled. “Alright, then. Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth shook her head. “Just thought you should know.”

“Oh.” He seemed disappointed, as he often did when either Byleth or Vitus turned down his invitation to talk about anything particularly emotional. The twins had never been the type to open up about their feelings, nor had they really grown to understand what exactly those feelings meant. They had always been good listeners, however, which was why many of the members of their troop would come to them on occasion with their struggles, sometimes talking for hours while the twins sat there and looked cute. 

Vitus went back to reading his book, an informative piece about the several different types of fighting classes and the skills in which they were focused. He didn’t have as much an interest in combat as his sister, but he always kept himself educated should there come a time he would need to use it. Traveling with a pack of mercenaries was a dangerous way of life, after all, especially for two small children. 

“Do you want to change anything?” Jeralt asked Byleth. “Your name? Clothes? Do we need to get you a haircut?”

“Nope.” 

Their father let out a sigh of relief. “You children sure are low maintenance.” He slapped a hand to Byleth’s back, giving her another smile before picking himself up to his feet. “Well, if there’s anything you’d like to say or ask, don’t hesitate, okay?”

Byleth simply nodded and she, too, stood up, raising her sword. The two continued to spar until lunch, and Vitus finally put his book down to join them. After they ate, Jeralt tasked the kids with gathering some fish from the pond while he met with some mercenaries to plan out their next job. 

Since the pond wasn’t too far from their home, Vitus and Byleth didn’t require supervision. Byleth kept her sword on her at all times and Vitus carried a small knife their father had given him in case he needed to cut any tangled lines. As they sat at the edge of the dock, two pairs of skinny little legs dangling above the water, Vitus decided to study his sister’s appearance. 

The twins were born identical, with the same bluish-green hair and deep blue eyes. They wore similar clothing, too, as did most commoners in their village, with varying combinations of black and pink. The only real difference between the two, aside from their interests, was that Byleth had always preferred to keep her hair tucked behind her ears while Vitus always hid behind his long, choppy bangs. 

“Vi, you got a bite,” Byleth pointed out to her brother, breaking his stare. He turned back to his pole, and sure enough, it began to wiggle. He lifted his shoulders the way Jeralt had taught him to, using all his might to steadily pull in his catch. At the end of the line, a small carp flopped about, and Byleth helped him transfer it to their fishing bucket. 

“Thanks,” he told her, replacing the bait on his line and lowering it back into the pond. This time, he kept his eyes on the water, and a few moments passed before Byleth spoke up again. 

“What were you looking at?” She pulled in her own line as it began to tug, her own catch just slightly bigger than Vitus’s first. She quickly added it to the bucket and reached for another bait. 

Vitus glanced away from his line. “I was just wondering if it bothers you that we look so much alike.”

“Why would it?” she asked, her round eyes focused on baiting the hook. “We’re twins.”

He checked his line, but it remained still. “Of course. But would it make you feel bad if someone thought you were me?”

Byleth sunk her line into the pond, her expression serious as she seemed to ponder her answer. “I don’t think it’ll make me feel  _ bad _ , but it might make me feel weird.” 

“I see.” Vitus removed his line from the water and stood up, reaching into his belt for the knife. 

“What are you doing?”

Vitus raised both of his hands behind his head, grasping a fistful of hair with the left as he held the knife in his right. Byleth’s eyes widened as she watched him cut away at the locks, tufts of teal floating down onto the pond’s surface. 

She set her own fishing pole aside and scrambled to her feet to try to stop him, but before she could make a move, Vitus’s left hand slipped, and the blade swept across the tip of his ear. “Vitus!”

The sudden shock of pain caused him to drop the knife, and it fell perfectly into the space between two wooden boards, disappearing into the water below. Vitus cupped a hand around his freshly-injured ear, blood beginning to trickle through his fingers. 

Byleth lifted her hand over top of his, both siblings unsure of what to do next. He kept his eyes locked on his sister, trying to block out the pain as she glanced around frantically for some kind of solution. Finally, her eyes lit up, and she brought her free hand to mouth, chewing down on the hem of her sleeve. She tore away a piece of the fabric and carefully coaxed Vitus to lower his hand, covering the wound with the makeshift bandage. 

“We need to get back to Dad,” she instructed, her voice filled with an urgency Vitus had not recognized in her before. He did not argue as she led him away from the dock, abandoning their fishing supplies as they headed into town where they knew their father would be. 

They made it to the tavern in record time, and no one seemed to notice or question the children as they navigated through the crowds of guests. They found Jeralt at the head of a large, round table in the back of the tavern, the familiar faces of their troop’s most qualified mercenaries seated around him. 

Jeralt seemed to be in the middle of mapping out their next route when he noticed his children, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of his son. “Vitus, what the hell happened to you?”

“I was trying to cut my hair but the knife slipped,” he muttered, pressing firmly against the bloodied cloth on his ear. 

He turned in his seat to fully face his children, advising Byleth to step aside so he could check the damage. Vitus winced, but didn’t make a sound as his father peeled away the cloth and examined the cut. “Well, you got yourself good,” Jeralt grumbled, shaking his head. “Why were you cutting your hair?”

Vitus glanced at Byleth, who seemed just as curious as Jeralt and the other mercenaries to hear his excuse. “I thought it would be easier to tell me and Bylie apart. So no one calls her the wrong thing.”

Byleth blinked, and for a moment, Vitus almost thought he saw a tear. But whatever emotion that had flashed across her face quickly subsided, and was replaced by her ever-stoic gaze. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Jeralt cleared his throat, drawing his children’s attention back to him. “It’s sweet that you were trying to be supportive of your sister, but next time come to me before you do something so drastic. It’s going to take at least a few days for your ear to heal.”

“I can clean it up for him,” one of the mercenaries volunteered. “The hair, too.” 

“Thank you, Iris,” Jeralt told her, nodding for his children to follow her. “You go, too, Byleth. I’ll be done here in a little while.”

Iris escorted the twins out of the tavern and back toward their home, making sure to hold both of their hands so neither of them would even think to run off. Vitus, who was still slightly shaken by the amount of blood that had stained his collar, didn’t mind holding her hand, but Byleth protested the whole way home, reminding Iris that she was fully capable of taking care of herself. 

By the time they finally reached the house, the sun had already begun to set. Iris carefully patched up Vitus’s ear and did her best to cut around it so as not to irritate it any further. The finished result actually looked pretty decent, and the difference between Vitus’s and Byleth’s hairstyles was now enough to satisfy both twins. 

After Vitus and Byleth had eaten dinner and changed into a clean pair of nightclothes, Iris sat the siblings down around the lit fireplace. “I know this change must be a bit confusing for you both,” she spoke softly, shifting her gaze to Byleth. “And I know it can be hard to talk about, but I want you to know that your father has already told most of us about your new identity, and we’re all going to be doing our best to accommodate you. That means you have to speak up if one of us gets it wrong or does something that doesn’t feel right to you. Okay?”

Byleth looked to Vitus for an answer, but he shrugged, unsure of what to say. Her eyes darted around the room before they finally landed back upon the mercenary, scrutinizing her appearance. “When I get older, will my body look like yours?”

Iris glanced down to where Byleth’s eyes were settled on her chest. She let out a light laugh, raising a finger underneath Byleth’s chin to meet her gaze. “That depends. Right now, your body is a little different than mine was when I was your age. If left untreated, your body will go through changes more similar to your brother’s as you grow older, but there are ways to make those changes more like mine.”

“How do I do that?” Byleth asked. 

“Well, I know a very kind lady just outside of Remire Village who specializes in treating kids just like you.” Iris withdrew a map from the utility pouch attached to her belt, and laid it out between them. She made a circle with her finger around a small dot to the west of Remire. “Her name is Amelia, and she’s an herbalist. She can create concoctions that replace the hormones in your body to make sure you go through the right kind of puberty.”

Vitus made a mental note to pick up some books on herbs the next time their troop traveled to Remire. He didn’t quite understand at least three of the words Iris had just said, but he was determined to learn. If this was what it would take for his sister to get the body she wanted, he was going to do everything to make sure it was done properly and safely. 

“She can also create a concoction that stops your hormones all together,” the older woman continued. “Since you’re still a little too young to be taking the first kind, the second kind can help prevent your body from changing too early.”

Byleth let out a pensive hum, seeming to absorb all this new information. “Can you tell me more about what it’s like to be a girl?”

Iris smiled. “I would love to. But I’m afraid it will have to wait until next time.” She tilted her head toward the window, the sky already having gone black. Moonlight trickled in through the glass, the angle of its rays signaling that it was almost time for bed. 

She stayed up with the twins for a few moments longer until Jeralt returned, and she refused any pay he tried to give her for fixing Vitus’s hair. She bid the children goodnight and went on her way, Byleth watching her intently until she had disappeared out the door. 

Jeralt led the children to bed and blew out their bedside candles. “I’m proud of you both,” he told them as he stood in their doorway, his brown eyes gleaming with admiration. “You keep looking out for each other no matter what happens, alright?”

The siblings nodded in tandem, and he left them with a goodnight, closing the door behind him. Byleth, for a change, went to sleep without so much a word, and Vitus could tell already that she was in a more confident state of mind. He turned to his good side with his injured ear elevated on the other, but even though it still stung, he paid it no attention. Someday, he thought, he would look back on this moment in his life, and remember the first day he got to spend with Byleth as his sister. And when he looked back, he would remember the way his lips tingled as he smiled. 

If this was what it was like to be happy, he hoped he would grow up to be happy every single day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my friends Iris and Amelia who let me name characters after them for this piece <3


End file.
